The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D. Simak Page A

brain-waves were quiet and gentle, not loaded with the hate and fear that he had sensed back there in the cave.
    It was strange, of course, but Quester told himself, it would be unusual if one met only one kind of life upon a planet. So far there had been the things that walked on two hind legs and were protoplasmic, and the metallic things that moved very rapidly and purposefully and shot light from their eyes and had more brains than one. And there had been that other time, he recalled, on that wet, hot night when he had sensed many other forms of life that seemed to hold either poor intelligence or no intelligence, beings that were little more than bundles of matter which held the gift of life.
    If only, he thought, this planet were not so hot and its, atmosphere not so heavy and oppressive, it might prove very interesting. Although it all was most confusing.
    â€”Quester.
    â€”What is it, Changer?
    â€”Off to your right. The trees. The large vegetation. You can see them against the sky. Head for them. If we can get in among them, they will help to hide us.
    â€”Changer, asked Thinker, what do we do now?
    â€”I don’t know. We’ll have to think about it. All three of us together.
    â€”These creatures will be hunting us?
    â€”I presume they will.
    â€”We should be one mind. Quester and I should know everything you know.
    â€”We will, said Quester. There has been no time. There has been too much happening. The distractions have been great.
    â€”Reach the trees, said Changer, and we’ll have the time.
    Quester swerved away from the side of the mighty cave that rose into the sky, cutting out across the wide strip of flooring, heading for the trees. Charging out of the darkness, its two eyes gleaming hard, came one of the metallic creatures, with the soft sighing of its windstorm. It swerved and headed straight for him and Quester flattened out. His legs blurred and his body hugged the gleaming surface of the floor, his ears laid back, his tail pointed straight behind him.
    Changer cheered him on.
    â€”Run, you mangy wolf! Run, you haggard jackal! Run, you frantic fox!

15
    The chief of staff was a calm and officious man. He was not the kind of man one would expect to bang his fist upon a desk.
    But now he banged his fist.
    â€œWhat I want to know,” he bellowed, “is what stupid knothead phoned the police. We could have handled this ourselves. We needed no police.”
    â€œI would imagine, sir,” said Michael Daniels, “that whoever might have called them thought they had some reason to. The corridor was littered with people all chewed up.”
    â€œWe could have taken care of them,” said the chief of staff. “That is the business we are in. We could have taken care of them and then proceeded in a fashion far more orderly.”
    â€œYou must realize, sir,” said Gordon Barnes, “that everyone must have been upset. A wolf in the …”
    The chief of staff waved Barnes to silence, spoke to the nurse.
    â€œMiss Gregerson, you were the first to see this thing.”
    The girl still was pale and frightened, but she nodded. “I came out of a room and it was in the corridor. A wolf. I dropped my tray and screamed and ran. It was a frightening …”
    â€œYou’re sure it was a wolf?”
    â€œYes, sir, I am sure.”
    â€œHow could you be sure. It might have been a dog.”
    â€œDr. Winston,” Daniels said, “you’re trying to confuse the issue. It makes no difference whether it was a wolf or dog.”
    The chief of staff glared at him angrily, then made an impatient gesture.
    â€œAll right,” he said. “All right. The rest of you may leave. If you’d be so good as to stay, Dr. Daniels, I would like to talk with you.”
    The two waited and the others filed out.
    â€œNow, Mike,” said the chief of staff, “let the two of us sit down and make some sense of it. Blake was your patient,